The Pied Piper
by Terra3
Summary: Within the Life Had Just Begun universe. Soon after the event in GoF, Blithe Tambre goes to meet Peter Pettigrew after believing him dead. As she goes, she reflects on their past relationship.


Disclaimer: All Harry Potter people, places, and things belong to J. K. Rowling and other related companies. Blithe Tambre belongs to me and if you wish to use her, please ask for my permission.

Author's Notes: This is set in the "Life Had Just Begun" universe, shortly before the events in _Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix_. Many details in my fic are wrong but some are still good. In this work (and future works that are part of the "Life Had Just Begun" universe) I will be modifying details if they clash with new canon. No, I will not be going back to modify "Life Had Just Begun". If you don't understand this, feel free to ask questions with the review button (make sure to leave your e-mail address) or directly e-mail me at destinyplot@lycos.com. Thank you.

*** ***

The Pied Piper

By Terra

Blithe could barely believe it. She had given up all hope so very long ago on a cold, grey November day eleven years before this moment. She had looked at the rat she had just mutilated on the wall and went to Peter's memorial stone, as she did every November 1st. When she got there, after three years of denying it, she finally accepted that he was truly gone. 

Or so she thought. After the Triwizard Tournament in which some silly eighteen year old boy got himself killed but Harry Potter, Mr. Oh-So-Spoiled Potter, managed to survive, there were whispers among the underground, in the shops in Knockturn Alley. The Dark Lord was back. Blithe had ignored these hushed chatterboxes until Lucius Malfoy had come to inform her that the Dark Lord would be contacting her shortly so she better be prepared. 

If it had been anyone else, she would have thought him mad. Within the week, the Dark Lord had contacted her and she came swiftly to his side. He had asked her for her loyalty, which she readily gave him. He told her that her services would certainly be required again and she told him that she was happy to serve. Before she went back home, after confirming her allegiance, she stopped and asked, "My Lord, they say that a loyal Death Eater had aided in your resurrection. May I request the name of that loyal supporter?"

The Dark Lord replied tonelessly, "Peter Pettigrew."

"But, My Lord..."

"He is not as dead as most think. You will be expected when you are summoned." And the conversation had been over. 

Today, she had not been summoned but she was not going to speak with her Lord. She went to the secret lair of the Death Eaters, dressed in her causal clothes. Most ordinary folk would call her outfit "slightly overdressed" but that's because they were jealous of the wealth of the Tambre clan. But she had tried to wear her simplest but prettiest outfit because although she cared very little of what others thought, Peter's opinion mattered and she remembered her massive wealth had always bothered him. 

When she arrived, a random Death Eater lackey had shown her the lift that led to the lower levels. As she slid down in the grinding metal cage, she thought back on when she first met Peter.

*** ***

Back in the first reign of the Dark Lord, Blithe's primary task was recruitment. Her method was dream manipulation. Using the Dream Tank, she would carefully control the night visions of her potential Death Eater and convince him or her that resistance was pointless. It certainly helped that she was a Legilimens. She had convinced many, many sad fools into agreeing by turning into seductive men and women, innocent children, or telling them of threats to their physical body, wealth, or their happiness. 

One such victim was a man named James Potter. Turning into a composite of two men James had met in childhood and had since forgotten, she had first tried the "keep and increase what you already have" technique but Mr. Potter had failed to be convinced to join. So, Blithe decided to probe into his mind and see his perceived threats and fears. She had already known that his wife, the stupid Mudblood Lily, was his pride and joy. In other words, losing her was his greatest fear. Power and money meant nothing to him, he could live without those things that other men usually craved but without Lily, he would crumble. He had spent much of his time trying to get her and it would be devastating if he lost her. He was also envious of his friends, thinking that they were ten times better than he was. His friends were Remus Lupin, Sirius Black, and Peter Pettigrew. 

Blithe decided to tell James that his fears were true. He _was_ pathetic, and no one loved him. Lily especially hated him, was bored of his company, and had never loved him. On top of that, she had affairs with all his friends and many strangers multiple times. He was the butt of everyone's mutually shared joke. James had very nearly crumbled but, in a very annoying way, he held on to the fact that he could still love and refused. Then again, perhaps he knew what Blithe knew when she was convincing him. His friends were nothing to be envied. Remus seemed rather pathetic on the surface, Blithe couldn't understand how _anyone_ could be jealous of the man. Sirius was an irritating vagabond that had run out of his upstanding family at the age of sixteen and probably the most moronic idiot Blithe had ever met. But, as the subconscious browbeating went on, she found herself fascinated by the third friend, Peter. Soon enough, she was nursing a wild infatuation with the strange blond friend of James Potter. Even when she had stopped influencing James' dreams, she couldn't get the man out of her head. 

She went on a hunt for Peter Pettigrew and eventually found out that he worked at a local music store, "The Final Note", as well as help his mother out with singing and piano lessons. With this information, she decided to go look at this man in person. She watched the store for weeks, saying when the rush came in and when Peter's hours were. Finally, she calculated the slow hour that matched one of Peter's shifts. 

Blithe, as her ancestors before her, was a talented performer. She was a truly gifted Dance Duelist and could play the violin, viola, cello, and bass, as well as sing. She taught children of respectable purebloods the fine art of Dance Dueling and all the stringed instruments she knew. Occasionally, when the mood took her since she never required to work for a living, she performed. 

But she loved her viola. Out of all the instruments in the world, the viola was her favorite. The slightly undervalued and usually overlooked cousin of the gaudy and popular violin, the viola always seemed to remind Blithe of herself. Throughout her life, people thought of her as a delicate little wisp of girl who couldn't do anything. But as she found that the viola is often more in demand because so many play the more popular cousin, Blithe found that she could use people's perception against them; she could do whatever she wanted to anyone she wanted and she would the last person anyone would think of. 

It was her beloved viola that she used as an excuse to enter the store. Peter and her were alone in the big, empty, quiet store. She gasped slightly when she saw him. He was even more beautiful in real life. James obviously didn't look at his friend closely enough. Peter was looking down into a drawer behind the desk and did not see her. For the first time in Blithe's memory, she was speechless. She had always scoffed at the idea of "love at first sight" but at that moment, she knew she felt it. 

Peter then looked up and smiled. Blithe just about passed out but she managed a hold on herself and said very quietly, almost whispering, "I would like you to look at my viola."

Peter blinked bemusedly. "Is it damaged?"

"Um... I don't know. It doesn't sound right. Could you check it over, tell me what's wrong with it?" Blithe knew very well that her viola was in perfect condition but she couldn't bear to actually destroy her precious viola in order to talk to Peter. He agreed to look over the viola and she quickly handed over the case. In her original plan, that was the cue to start a delightful conversation but her mind drew a blank. She retreated to stand where music books were displayed as Peter checked the flawless viola. She riffled through the scores of various pieces, trying to find something interesting to say. She went through the list of facts that people usually said, "wow, fascinating, tell me more" to but all of them sounded horribly dumb or reminded her of things men said to her when they wanted to court her and made her want to hit them over the head with a saw. So, she spent her time in silence, trying to sneak peeks at him in the mirror that ran all along the top of the wall. 

After an hour, Peter gave a frustrated grunt and asked, "Are you sure your viola's broken? I mean, I've never seen a higher quality instrument and I can't even find a chip in the finish."

Admitting defeat, Blithe sighed and collected some scores that looked good for her students and answered, "Maybe I am just imagining it. I will check it tonight. Anyway, I would like to buy these scores."

Peter put the viola gently back in its case and took the scores from her hands, ringing up the prices. "You have made an excellent purchase."

She thanked him as she paid and then escaped with her viola in hand, feeling very foolish. She wasn't one to suddenly become shy; shyness on her part was usually a carefully planned facade to get out of sticky situations. She certainly hadn't used that soft, submissive tone since she was about five years old and that was only because she had been speaking to one of those Tectum bunker people who would beat people who spoke too loudly. She vowed not to do that again as it was highly embarrassing.

However, two weeks later, she found herself still mooning over Peter Pettigrew. With her viola in hand, she voyaged again to the store where Peter worked when he was alone and business was slow. Again, she claimed there was something the matter with her instrument and retreated to the score case, sneaking glances at Peter as he pondered her viola's condition. This trip ended the same as before. Two weeks later, like a werewolf submitting itself to the moon, Blithe took herself to the shop again. 

Peter attempted conversation. "If you don't mind me asking, shouldn't you be in school?"

Blithe mentally groaned. Of course, why didn't she think of it before? Why be surprised? Everyone thought she was in her teens when she had been, at the time, twenty-five years old. She had always looked younger than her true age and when she had reached the current appearance at sixteen, she had stopped. 

"Actually, I no longer attend school," Blithe answered much more calmly than she usually did when someone posed a similar question. 

"Oh," Peter sighed. "I see. I'm sorry you failed your O.W.L.s."

Blithe nearly laughed but realized that he was genuinely sorry about her supposed failure so kept it back. "No, I mean, I am truly out of school. I attended for seven years, did splendid on both my O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s, and left." Blithe barely managed to stop herself from wincing. Now she sounded like she was bragging. 

Peter didn't look convinced. "Do you have your Apparation license?" Blithe took it out and handed it to him. He looked it and then glanced up. "You're older than I am," he stammered. "How come I don't remember you at all?"

"Depends on where you went. I didn't go to Hogwarts."

"Oh. I did. Where did you go?"

"La Scuola Delle Arti Fini. It's in Venice, Italy."

"Are you Italian?"

"No. My family feels that the school has a wider range of subjects than Hogwarts, such as the arts, hence 'arti fini', the fine arts. It is known for its music, dueling, and art facilities." Blithe decided not to mention that it also did not allow Mudbloods and was much more selective than even Salazar Slytherin had wanted Hogwarts to be. It also taught the Dark Arts, the other undervalued art that Hogwarts sweeps under the carpet. 

Peter didn't respond. Before Blithe truly began to wonder whether she had scared him off, he announced that, again, he was baffled by her viola. Blithe, again, commented that that was a shame but she wanted to buy the scores. Again, Peter put her viola away, rung up the purchases, and informed her that she had made an excellent selection. 

This continued for months. 

*** ***

The lift jarred to a stop. The gates opened and she found herself on a lower level, possibly underground. A trio of Death Eaters were quietly discussing some important matter. None of them was Peter, much to Blithe's disappointment. 

She stepped out of the lift and the cage rattled upwards again. Blithe considered her next options. All that the lackey had known that "one who had resurrected the Dark Lord" was kept "far below". She needed someone on the inside, someone more than a stupid half-bit lackey that was only here because their Daddy had nudged up to their Lord. 

Two of the trio she did not recognize but one of them was Lucius. He was in the Dark Lord's inner circle and had even been at the first summoning of the Death Eaters. Finally, someone who would actually _know_ something. 

"Lucius," Blithe barked at him. The conversation halted. "I wish to speak with you."

"Aw, the little girl wants to talk like a grown-up!" one of the men cooed mockingly. The other stranger snickered. Blithe, without any hint on her face, shot a spell at the first Death Eater that knocked him off his feet. 

His friend aimed his wand at her, snarling, "You need to learn to respect your elders."

"You first. I was a Death Eater before you could write your own name."

"I would suggest lowering your wand, Hester," Lucius drawled in the manner that every Malfoy since the first Muggle-born wizard always did, "It is not wise to try to out-duel Miss Tambre."

The boy's eyes widened in horror. He stammered, "Sorry, Miss Tambre. I had never seen you before and so I just assumed..."

"That you can just insult a random person?" Blithe snapped. "Hope to Merlin you don't meet up with Harry Potter. He'd probably wet his pants laughing at your gall. Now, get out of my sight and take your pathetic companion with you, you little child!" she roared. The boys quickly ran off. Before they went out of sight, Blithe sent ribbons after them, slashing their backs as they turned a corner. She could dimly hear them howling in pain. 

She turned to Lucius, who raised an eyebrow. "I was in the middle of a conversation," Lucius commented.

"I didn't kill them," Blithe answered with a shrug. "Where is Wormtail?"

"Ah, I see," he replied. "I now understand your impatience. Your life has certainly been lonely since then, hasn't it?"

"You're going to understand that feeling the next time I meet Narcissa if you don't just show me the way," Blithe hissed. Lucius' eyes widened in shock. He knew this wasn't an empty threat. She understood that Lucius deeply loved his wife and son, Draco, and if the choice was down to himself or his family, he'd sacrifice himself. With a scowl, Lucius showed Blithe to a hidden door. He muttered a charm at it and it revealed another lift. 

"He's on the lowest level as far as I know. The Dark Lord wants him to stay close for awhile. It wouldn't do for dead men to suddenly start being seen again. I highly doubt he will be gone but if he is, don't hold me accountable."

"I wouldn't," Blithe answered as she stepped into the cage. She pressed the button and the gate closed. No, Blithe wouldn't hold Lucius accountable. He knew that Blithe was not someone to be trifled with. The only person worse was Bellatrix Lestrange. She sighed at the thought of Bellatrix. She had been the closest thing to a best friend that she had ever managed. She had cried when Bellatrix was sent to Azkaban. Peter being gone was bad enough, but Bellatrix too? Blithe had spent the next couple of months in a sad daze, totally friendless and alone. She shook herself to calm herself down. The Dark Lord had promised to free the prisoners as soon as possible. Every night since then, she had tried to will her thoughts into Bellatrix's head: _We're coming. Please, just hold on a little longer._ But that was beside the point. The point was that if Blithe intended to punish Lucius by hurting his family, then he would do _anything_ to prevent that.

The only person Blithe had ever felt that sort of emotion for was Peter.

*** ***

Over the months, Blithe visited the shop with the same old excuse. In time, Peter almost seemed to expect her and with each visit, he seemed to look more forward to seeing her come. Blithe wondered if Peter even believed her lie about the viola anymore but rather just played along to keep her in the store longer. Sometimes, when she glanced in the mirror, she could see him looking at her but as soon as their eyes met, his eyes went back to the viola as if he hadn't been looking at her at all. 

Blithe still felt horribly more foolish each time she went. Why, exactly, was she doing this? The man is James Potter's best friend and sooner or later, Peter would have to be killed. What if she, a Death Eater, had to do the deed? She had been assigned murders before, it wouldn't be long before Peter's number was up. She was starting to have horrible nightmares about killing Peter as he asked, "Why? Why?" But she couldn't pull herself away. No matter how much her head told her that her future with Peter was not to be, her heart would scream out in terror of never seeing Peter again. 

So, she went to the shop and they rarely spoke except for the occasional fact swap and Peter's "you have made an excellent purchase". 

One night at the end of July, as Blithe played her viola to calm her nerves, her Dark Mark burned. She dropped the viola in pain (ironically giving her viola a real problem that Peter could now fix) and Apparated to the Dark Lord's side. 

After Transfiguring her clothes into the standard black uniform of the Death Eaters and Conjuring her mask, she went to see what her Master requested. Once, in her early days, she had complained about the unnecessary pain of the Mark burning. In response, he had screamed, "Crucio!" and set it on her for five minutes. She never complained about the Mark again. 

It turned out that she was to torture someone, a woman named Marguerite Malina, the fiancée of Sirius Black. Apparently, he had refused a third time to join six months prior and now his love was to pay the penalty. Blithe was to be assisted by another Death Eater, an expert on Sirius Black that had provided most of the information on him. The reason it was not death for her was because the expert knew that Sirius would be more affected by her suffering than her death. He hated to see those he loved suffer. 

Blithe had agreed to the mission. She preferred torturing over killing anyway. She loved to hear their screams and pleas for mercy. Most women enjoyed triple-layered chocolate fudge cakes; Blithe held same excitement for causing others physical anguish. She went to the arranged meeting place and was stunned to see Peter waiting for her. He seemed equally surprised at seeing her.

"Blithe?" Peter gasped.

"Peter?" she responded. 

They stared at each other in shock. Finally, Peter grew serious and said, "We don't have much time. Sirius is going to meet Marguerite at nine o'clock so that only leaves us an hour to get there, curse her brains out, erase any evidence, and get out of there in plenty of time."

"You're the expert," Blithe whispered. "Of course, why shouldn't you be? You are his closest friend. You're good. I never even suspected you."

"And if we do this right, Sirius won't either. And trust me, it'll drive him even madder. He'll finally see he's on the losing side."

Peter told Blithe the address and they both Apparated to the woman's front lawn. Nodding at each other slowly as though they were old partners, they put on their masks and lifted up their hoods, hiding their identities. Peter went to the door and muttered a counter-charm. The door shimmered and Peter whispered, "Alohomara." The locks clicked. He slowly opened the door and let himself and Blithe inside.

Blithe could hear someone in the kitchen, most likely rinsing something. A light woman's voice muttered, "Hello, this is my husband, Sirius Black. My name is Mrs. Marguerite Black. This is my son, Anderson Black... Kendrick Black... Malamis Black... wait, hold on, got to consider girls, too. And this is my daughter, Safira Black... Selene Black... Ourania Black... oh, I don't know. Okay, okay, just stay calm. Just say, 'Sirius, we need to discuss something...' No, that sounds like I'm yelling at him. Oh, why did this happen now?"

While Marguerite had been talking, Blithe and Peter had been slowly moving towards her. Blithe couldn't help but roll her eyes. _She is already planning the children's names? She isn't even married yet! Some people!_ _I'm glad we're torturing her, she deserves it. Might do her some good._

Marguerite had lapsed into silence as she rinsed out a glass. Peter looked at Blithe and she nodded. Blithe, wand out, stepped forward into the kitchen. A floorboard creaked. "Sirius?" Marguerite called, not turning around. "Is that you?" Blithe placed her wand tip on Marguerite's neck. The woman stiffened. 

"Don't move," Blithe hissed. Behind her, Peter slid from out of the shadows and went to stand at a small distance away to Marguerite's left. "So, you are Sirius Black's fiancée, yes?"

"I wouldn't try anything," Marguerite answered in a shaking voice, "he's coming in about five minutes. He's very skilled. Save your energy before he hurts one of you."

Blithe glanced at her clock. It was half-past eight, hardly five minutes away from nine. "Unless your clock is unbelievably slow, I highly doubt he will be here in five minutes. Nice try, though. Don't worry, he won't disturb our little get-together." Blithe scoffed and shook her head. "It's funny, he's the reason we're here. Did he ever tell you that we have contacted him three times already?"

"No," Marguerite answered. Her wand, Blithe suddenly noticed, was within arm's reach. Fortunately, Peter noticed and swiped the wand off the countertop and placed it on the dining table behind him, standing firmly in front of it. 

"Well, we have. He's prime Death Eater material. His brother was one, you know."

"Before you killed him," she snapped. 

Blithe jabbed the point into her neck further. "That is a false accusation. I did not kill Regulus. Who did? Well, he's not standing in this room, that's for sure. But we're talking about Sirius, not Regulus. Regulus is ancient history, Sirius is here and now. As I was saying, Sirius is excellent for this sort of position. And he just throws it away." Blithe twisted the wand and continued, "But someone very close to him is going to make him change his little stubborn mind. And guess who we picked? You!"

The movement was so quick that Blithe barely saw it. At the very moment that Blithe stepped back to get a better shot for the Cruciatus Curse, Marguerite had managed to grab a knife, whip it out, and strike Blithe. On reflex, Blithe moved her head to avoid the blow. Instead of hitting her hard mask, Marguerite sliced the strap holding it there. With a clatter, the mask fell off, exposing Blithe's face. 

Nobody moved for a second, then Marguerite managed to laugh maniacally. "I can see your _face_, Death Eater!" She turned to face Peter. "One down, one to go!" She charged at Peter with a battle cry but now the element of surprise was gone and Peter managed to catch her arms and restraint her. The knife fell to the floor as Peter twisted her wrist around. With difficulty, Peter turned her around so she faced Blithe again. 

Marguerite howled and screamed like a banshee, kicking and flailing in Peter's grasp. "Come on!" Peter cried as Blithe stood there. "Curse her!"

"I could hit you!" Blithe answered.

"Who cares? I can't restrain her forever!" Peter complained. 

Marguerite screamed again and shrieked, "I recognize your voice! I can't place it but damn it, I know that voice! I've heard your voice before!"

"Just do it!" Peter shouted. Blithe never got the chance because Marguerite, with a surge of adrenaline, grabbed hold of Peter's mask and ripped it off his face as she kicked him in the kneecaps. In pain, Peter let go and Marguerite leapt out of his reach, throwing the mask to the ground like a triumphant gladiator with the loser's shield when the emperor gave the command for death. 

"Peter," Marguerite hissed. "Peter Pettigrew, one of Sirius' best friends. Just you wait, just you _wait_! When Sirius finds out, they'll have to bring you to Azkaban in a locket!" She shook with rage. "I came to you for advice on what to do... you led me astray. You know damn well Sirius won't mind but you had to put some doubt in my mind so I'd keep putting it off! Hell, if I had told him, he'd be here now and you'd have to take him on and we all know that you _can't do that_!" Marguerite roared and moved to attack Peter with her bare hands. Thinking quickly, Blithe screamed, "Stupefy!"

"No!" Peter cried but it was too late. The spell hit Marguerite square in the back and she fell over on her back, Stunned. He stared at Blithe. "Why did you do that?"

"Because she was about to attack you! What was I supposed do to, let her?"

"Why a Stunning Spell? Of all the spells in the universe, why that one?"

"It's effective!"

"She is pregnant!"

For a few moments, they stood glaring at each other, panting from screaming. Finally, Blithe demanded, "And when were you going to tell me that?"

"I thought you knew. I thought you were told."

"No, I was not told, Peter," Blithe snapped. "So, what, she's going to miscarry now?"

"Well, if we took her to hospital, the baby might make it."

"Oh, yeah, that will go over well. 'So, why is she Stunned?' 'Well, we're Death Eaters and we just attacked her to punish Sirius Black.' Come on!" Peter didn't respond but seemed to be deep in thought, looking at Marguerite carefully. "What are you thinking?"

"I was thinking about how this new development would affect Sirius. He hates his loved ones suffering and I've heard that there's nothing more painful for a woman than losing a child, especially an unborn one."

"So, we just... let it happen?"

"Happens all the time. For all we know, it might have happened tomorrow. Maybe you were right in doing that, this will shake him up much more than simply Marguerite being hurt."

"Why didn't you suggest that in the first place?"

Peter shrugged. "Alright. I'm squeamish. So, since some would consider this a death of sorts, want to send up the Mark?"

"How about burn it on the wall? Let the forensics team tell him how narrowly he missed us. Besides, this sort of thing is a family affair, isn't it?"

"Speaking of narrowly missing us, if we don't move quickly, he'll get a good look at us." Blithe nodded and cast the Dark Mark on the wall. Peter picked up their masks and checked the area for any sign that they were there. Seeing nothing, Blithe went ahead and Memory Charmed the last hour from Marguerite's mind. 

They Apparated out of there a minute before nine and reported what had happened. The Dark Lord was pleased and they were dismissed. 

"Say, I don't really feel like going home by myself," Blithe stammered. "Would you like to have something to eat or go somewhere or anything?"

"Going to your place is fine. I've wanting the chance to talk to you about something besides your purchases and torturing people and now is better than never."

Blithe smiled in gratitude. "Wonderful. We'll Floo, easier that way."

Peter had been astonished at the sheer wealth displayed in the size of Blithe's mansion (where she lived alone) and possessions. She had felt ill at ease, knowing he would feel weird getting used to a girl who could buy Hogwarts if it was for sale. But as they talked about their pasts and current lives, the tension drifted away. The more Peter talked, the more interesting Blithe found him. It was then the relationship began in earnest. They spent as much time as possible together, both in and outside of their Death Eater roles. The Dark Lord soon discovered that the pair worked remarkably well together and thus often assigned them to tasks together. 

When Christmas rolled around, the Potters were hosting a party and many of their close friends had been invited, including Peter. Blithe hadn't wanted to go, she had hated James Potter and wanted nothing to do with his wife but he had insisted. If she stayed away, they would be suspicious. So, moaning and groaning all the way there, she went. 

She instantly regretted it. James was still a moron, Lily represented everything that went against Blithe's nature, Sirius was still a cocky snot, and Remus just rubbed her wrong. If Peter hadn't wanted to arouse suspicion, she would have ran out of the house screaming. But she stayed. 

Everything nearly fell apart when they had all decided to introduce Blithe to Marguerite. She, according to Peter's report, had surpassed their wildest dreams. Not only did she miscarry, the psychological trauma had caused amnesia. She couldn't even remember her own name, much less who Sirius was. At the time of the party, she wasn't doing much better, forced to constantly review people's names and faces with flashcards which she carried around with her. Blithe almost burst out laughing when they led her to the poor moron. She found it very ironic that all these people wanted Marguerite, who had suffered so much, to meet the woman who caused all of it. Blithe had told her about how "sorry" she felt about her condition as Marguerite looked at her strangely. It was then that Marguerite asked if they had met because she swore that she had seen her face and heard her voice before. 

Using all her acting skills, she kept calm and explained that they had never met. In a stroke of brilliance, Peter remembered a photo of Sirius' mother, taken at a very young age, with dark, curly hair. Blithe then recalled her acting on a Wireless commercial. This seemed to settle it.

After an embarrassing situation with the young Harry (what part of she didn't want to hold the baby didn't the Mudblood understand?), the group scattered. Blithe kept mostly to herself, taking the house in, finding its entrances and exits, searching for weaknesses in the structure and the people within. During an examination of a window, Sirius stepped over to her. 

"Hello, Blithe," he greeted with a smile. 

"Hello," she replied, not really wanting to speak to him. He didn't take the hint and leaned his arm against the window. Blithe hated when people did that because it reminded her on how short she truly was. To make it worse, Sirius was unusually tall. 

"I see you're getting on well with Peter," he commented in a fake casual voice. "Nice to see him with someone as pretty as you."

"I'll tell him you said that," she answered, trying to see if that would make him stop and go away.

"Oh no, I'm not trying to hit on you or anything. I was saying how happy I am for Peter, that's all."

"Thank you for the compliment."

"Anyway, I was just thinking about how Peter described how you two got together," Sirius said slowly. _Ah,_ Blithe thought, _this is what he _really_ came to talk about. Peter was right_. Peter had insisted on having an alibi down between them. He had told her that Sirius would be very shaken by what happened to Marguerite and he would know that someone close had provided information. Since only five people knew of the meeting, including Marguerite herself, Sirius, James, Remus, and Peter, he'd go snooping to see who could have betrayed him. Sirius took a breath and added, "He said that you ran into him on July 30th at a grocery store. Is that true?"

"Of course. I had to buy some things that I was short on and he happened to be there too for the same reason and we started to talk," Blithe explained calmly with a smile. "Why do you ask?"

As many men before him, Sirius fell for the oh-so-innocent smile and nodded, saying, "No reason. Just curious. Nice talking with you." With that, he moved on. Blithe followed his movement in the reflection of the window. She saw that he nearly went to Remus but then suddenly changed his path, going to Marguerite instead. _Curious._

Blithe devoted some time watching the interactions between Remus and Sirius. She immediately noticed that the air was tense between them. Remus appeared confused about it but Sirius was obviously angry with Remus. The most telling moment was when Remus went over to speak to Marguerite and Sirius practically swooped down on them. She considered this situation as she sat watching Sirius fuss over Marguerite (again). If five people knew of Marguerite's position, then all five were suspects. Marguerite and Sirius were out in Sirius' mind by default. This left three. James couldn't have done it because he was with Sirius the whole night as his wife had a baby before and during the attack so that negated James. This left Peter and Remus. Since Blithe had upheld Peter's story of his absence, that left Remus. Blithe chuckled. This was almost too good to be true. All Peter would have to do would be to play off the tensions of the two men. 

As mused on this new development, Peter came over to her. "You okay?"

"Good enough," Blithe answered softly. "You?"

"I didn't like what happened with Marguerite."

"Neither does Sirius. He asked me about your alibi. He bought it. I think he suspects Remus now. Oh, look at him. He looks like he wants to eat Remus."

Peter brought his head closer to her ear. "I'm not talking about that. I'm talking about how Marguerite recognized you."

"Oh, hush. She didn't remember anything."

"She recalled your face and voice. The only reason that it isn't considered strange that she remembers me is that we've met a few times before so Sirius just thinks it's that."

"We explained me away, too, Peter. Calm down," Blithe hissed. 

"What if she gets her memory back?"

"What if the spirit of the dead baby comes back and tells Sirius?" she snapped sarcastically. "Peter, be reasonable, she won't remember."

"She's in therapy. She remembers more and more every day."

"It could take years, Peter. Maybe never since that was the so-called trigger of the amnesia. That's the thing her mind wants to block. By then, the Dark Lord will have taken over and no one will care one way or the other. Or she'll be dead."

"But I'm just worried."

"It's fine. It's fine. Where's the toilet in this house?" Peter pointed out the way and Blithe left as James came over to speak with Peter. She found the room with no problem and began to do her business. Finishing that, she washed her hands and made to open the door when the Mark burned. 

Barely managing not to scream, she clutched her left arm and fell to her knees. _How am I supposed to tell Peter and leave?_ Soon, she heard footsteps and Peter call out to her, asking about her stomach problems. _Stomach problems? Oh, he feels it too!_ She asked if James was there, which he was. _Ah, can't reveal himself to his friends. Okay, play along._ Blithe replied that she was having "stomach problems". She could hear Peter explain to James that she had stomachaches and nearly didn't come because of them. _That, and you're all people I hate but Peter isn't going to tell you that._ With her difficulty, she opened the door and stepped out. Peter promised to take her straight home and do something for his pain, as per James' request. 

Once they left the house, they Apparated to the secret lair of the Dark Lord. As they ran to be at his side, Blithe kept wondering if she was supposed to be doing something. As they sped in, the Dark Lord raised his wand sharply and set the Cruciatus Curse on both of them.

"You are late," he hissed. 

"My Lord," Peter gasped, "we were with the Potters. We had to make excuses, we couldn't just leave without arousing suspicion. Please, have mercy." 

The Dark Lord cursed them again, longer. "Unlike the Potters, _I_ do not accept excuses. You must come swiftly when I summon you. I do not tolerate tardiness." The pair panted on the ground. Blithe always took the Curse worse than others; she believed it had something to do either with her size or her disorder, she couldn't which. The Dark Lord suddenly began to chuckle. "What a darling outfit, Tambre." The other assembled Death Eaters besides Peter began to laugh. Blithe looked down. She was still in the outfit that she had worn to the party. In her rush, she hadn't bothered to Transfigure it. Hastily, she changed into her black uniform. 

"I'm sorry," Blithe stuttered, "I was in such a rush to come. I forgot. Please, forgive me." 

The Dark Lord cursed her again. Once he had stopped, he remarked, "I thought that women were naturally prone to multi-tasking. Perhaps you did not gain this gift?"

"I do my best next time, My Lord."

"I hope that you do."

*** ***

The jarring stop of the lift knocked Blithe out of her thoughts. She was on the lowest floor. She was certain that this was deeply below ground. She stepped out of the cage and entered the dark corridor. Torches flared to life and dimmed as she passed. Most of the doors were open and unoccupied. At the very end, a door was shut. Blithe paused in front of the door. _Will he remember me? Will he have changed since we last saw each other?_ The last time they had spoken was when Peter revealed the location of the Potters the night before Halloween. She had kissed him and promised that the future would be brighter. _We thought the world would be ours. But that Potter brat stole everything away._ The only thing that had brightened her world in that time was finding out that Marguerite, who had nearly regained a large portion of her memory, lost it all again a few days after Peter's memorial service. Some said that she had gone to Crouch, demanding that Sirius have a trial and he had shown her the pictures taken of the carnage. The next day, a friend found her in her room, swaying back and forth, unresponsive to anyone. When she snapped out of it, she had lost her memory again. Upon hearing this tale, Blithe had laughed until she cried. 

Blithe knocked on the door. A voice muttered, "Come in." She opened the door and stepped inside. Peter was lying on his back on a simple cot, staring at the ceiling. His right arm was hidden from view and his left arm crossed over his chest. As expected, Peter had aged. He was thinner than Blithe had remembered and there were lines on his face. 

"Peter?" Blithe whispered. 

Peter shot up to a sitting position, turning to face her, surprise all over his face. "Blithe? Is that you?"

She nodded. "Peter, could you stand up for a second?" He did as he was told. Blithe stepped forward and slapped him across the face. Peter fell back to the bed in shock. "Peter!" she screamed, "How could you do that? I had given up all hope of ever seeing you again and you were alive the whole time! How could you do that to me?"

"Blithe... I had to hide..."

"Why didn't you come to me? I would have hid you!"

"But... he went with my information... he met his downfall there..."

"I didn't care about that! I knew that wasn't your fault!" Blithe began to cry. "I felt like the world was ending!"

Peter stood up and took one shoulder in his left hand, leading her to the bed, sitting her down. "Don't cry, Blithe. There, now, everything's okay."

"I thought you were dead. I had given up all hope. For awhile, I thought maybe you had changed into Wormtail to escape. For three years, I bought every grey rat I could find and took them home, to see if any were you. But none of them were! And then I just accepted the fact you were dead and you weren't dead after all!"

"Blithe, what happened to all the rats?"

Blithe looked up at Peter. "Well, I tested them to see if they could understand human instruction and tried to make them change. When they failed, I smashed their heads against the wall." Peter widened in shock at this. "I don't think I made a huge dent in the rat population. Where were you anyway?"

"I was being kept as a pet rat of one of the Weasley children. First Percy, then Ron. I'm surprised that you remembered my Animagus form."

"Of course, I remembered! I thought that was most fascinating thing ever!" Blithe sniffled and Peter rubbed her back. "I was so distraught when you supposedly died. I felt like I could never be happy again. Then Bellatrix was sent to Azkaban... I lost everyone I loved."

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," Peter replied morosely. "How did you stay out of Azkaban anyway?"

"Oh, I did my poor little innocent victim thing. I mean, everyone knew that I dated you and my trial was shortly after... that. So, I claimed I was under the Imperius the whole time."

"Did you point fingers?"

"Of course. At the Dark Lord's right-hand man, Sirius Black," Blithe replied with a smile. "When I said that, everyone there went nuts. I had the jury eating out my hand. I even got letters from people saying how their hearts went out to me in light of this information. That made me feel slightly better. I wanted revenge on him for killing you and I managed to darkened his reputation further. It's not like they were going to ask him to verify what I accused him of." Blithe leaned her head against Peter's shoulder. "I missed you terribly. There wasn't a day that I didn't think of you."

"I missed you too." Peter played with one of her black curls for a moment before remarking, "You really don't age, do you?"

Blithe sighed. It was time to tell Peter the truth. "Peter, there is something I must explain. Remember whenever someone asks about my appearance, I would just say I was lucky or something?"

"Yes."

"I lied. I have Sempiterna Ephebus Syndrome. Do you know what that is?" 

"No. What is it?"

"You know how all wizards and witches produce a form of energy that makes them look younger than they should and live longer? Well, I produce too much."

"That doesn't sound too bad."

"Peter, I have only have so much. When I run out, I'll die. I have about thirty more years to live. That's a maximum. That's like a Muggle dying at age twenty-five or thirty if you want to think of it that way. But as I said, that's a maximum. I could drop dead tomorrow or right now, there's no way of telling how much I have left." 

"That's not fair, Blithe," Peter replied sadly. 

"I know. But that's how it is."

"How many people know?"

"Not many. My family knows and a few other family friends do as well. Most don't."

"Is there anything that can be done?"

"No. There is no treatment or cure. Don't get too distracted by it, Peter," Blithe said softly. "When it happens, it'll happen. I'm here now and so are you. Let's focus on that." 

"I'll try," Peter promised glumly. "At least now I know."

They sat in silence for awhile until Blithe noticed that Peter's right hand was made entirely of silver. "Peter, what happened to your hand?"

Peter started and brought his new hand forward. "This?" Blithe nodded. Peter explained how the Dark Lord was resurrected, his part in it, and his reward. 

"How powerful is it?"

"I crushed a stick to powder but I haven't fully tested it."

"Wait," Blithe offered, removing a diamond and platinum bracelet she had on. "Try this. Diamonds and platinum. Let's see how they hold up."

Peter narrowed his eyes at it. "Where did that come from?"

"Someone my mother set me up with gave it to me. It means nothing. Please, use it."

"Who is this 'someone'?"

"Peter! He is _no one_. I love you, now and forever. Men have tried to woo me with their silly little gifts. Believe me, I have plenty that I wouldn't mind losing. At least, it's going to a good cause."

Peter continued to look suspicious but did not argue further. Blithe placed the bracelet in his palm and he curled his fingers around it. Within moments, the diamonds were glittering dust and the platinum was mangled like tinfoil. 

"How much effort did that take you?" Blithe asked in awe. 

"About as much effort as it would take to crumble a biscuit," Peter replied, looking very proud of himself. 

Blithe wrapped Peter in a warm hug with tears in her eyes. "It's so good to have you back."

The End.

Author's Notes: Ew! Ew! Ew! The views showed in this fic are definitely not my own! Yuck, writing about Peter in loving terms was nearly impossible. I hope that shined more light on Blithe Tambre. Please review at destinyplot@lycos.com or with the review button. Hope you enjoy my other works!


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